


Advance an Honest Mind

by SandrC



Series: Balance My Deeds With My Misdeeds [35]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Because I can't not do them, Character Study, Gen, Howl's Moving Castle AU, NOT Taacretia, and my friends are enablers, both are good in their own way but, i love the book more, im a trash monster, please no romantic shipping there, the novel not the movie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-04 20:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12176325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandrC/pseuds/SandrC
Summary: If thou be’st born to strange sights,Things invisible to see,Ride ten thousand days and nights,Till age snow white hairs on thee,Thou, when thou return’st, wilt tell me,All strange wonders that befell thee,And swear,No whereLives a woman true and fair.—Poem #6: Song (John Donne)





	1. In Which Lucretia Talks to Hats

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Karmahitme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karmahitme/gifts), [alattefoam (embersinmymug)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/embersinmymug/gifts).



> So I am a garbage child and I'm love Diana Wynne-Jones so much. Godspeed you cynical delight!
> 
> But like...Howl's Moving Castle holds a special place in my heart. My copy of the book is falling apart like a motherfucker, that's how much I love it. The movie, while good, is a different animal in its own right and, if viewed as a separate thing INSPIRED BY the novel, then is much more palatable. (No shade Miyazaki-san, 愛してる！♡)
> 
> But like yeah...Sophie seems a very Lucretia kind of character so I ran with it. Also I feel like I'm doing a good job of pastiching dear Dianne here so...there ya go.
> 
> If you get a chance, please actually read the book or listen to the audiobook. It's worth it. I promise.
> 
> Don't expect any sort of consistent update schedule.

In the land of Faerûn, where such things as seven-league boots and cloaks of invisibility exist, there was a milliner with three daughters that he loved _very_ much. Two of them—the eldest, Lucretia, and the middlest, Hekuba—were from his first marriage to a _delightful_ woman who had the misfortune to die early in Hekuba's life. For some time, the Hatter family continued on, but Mr. Hatter married his youngest and prettiest assistant—a drow with ethereal beauty who went by the name Raven—and their duo became a trio with the birth of Julia Hatter. And there could not be a happier family in the _whole_ land.

Against the normal assumptions, Raven was a very kind woman who adored _all three_ of her daughters—and _of course_ they were hers! She was _Mrs. Hatter_ , after all—equally. She _could_ have been a Wicked Stepmother and Hekuba and Lucretia could have been Ugly Stepsisters but that fate was easily avoided by Raven's kind heart and unassuming nature.

When the three Hatter girls reached the age of schooling, Mr. Hatter spared _no_ expense in making sure they were well educated. And they were and then some. Of the three, Lucretia came to know the joy of learning _most_ , reveling in text and books and gleaning knowledge from any source. It _exhilarated_ her, absorbing new information. It was a rush she could never replicate.

In true Faerûn fashion, Lucretia knew that she would amount to very little. The eldest of three _always_ failed first and failed _hardest_ when they set out to find their fortune. She didn't even have the luck to be a poor woodcutter's daughter, where arcane law would at least afford her some modicum of chance. Instead, she was Lucretia Hatter, dour and plain eldest daughter of Mr. Hatter and the one who would inherit the millinery. Hekuba was at least _beautiful_ , her stout frame and strong arms an indication of grace and tenacity that shone through in her bright smile and perfect skin. Men clambered over themselves to try and court her but she rebuffed every one with a ferocity that, _some_ how, did not deter them. She would do well. And _Julia_? Julia was _clever_ , weaving words and worlds with wit and wonder, spinning tales and truth into a tapestry of imagination. She wanted—more than anything—to _make_ something of herself, _whether or not_ that included a man.

Yes, Lucretia's two sisters were well set to receive their arcane fortune. Julia would succeed the most, then Hekuba, and Lucretia _might_ find comfort if she didn't die before she reached marrying age. And, _despite_ people's words to the contrary, Lucretia was fine with that. It was her lot in life, though it wasn't a _lot_ of a life. So while Julia and Hekuba often got into tiffs over who would come into money first—Hekuba sneering that _Julia_ would never have to marry rich with _her_ luck and Julia responding that she'd _never_ marry for money anyway _so there!_ —Lucretia would repair their clothes with a deft hand and eye for detail that put other seamstresses to shame.

She was _content_ and that's all that mattered.

* * *

About the time that the May Day festival—the one a year prior to Lucretia's adventure—came around in the sleepy town of Phandalin, news of the Witch of the Waste began to spread again. King Artemis Sterling long fought her advances from the Waste into Faerûn by sending guard after guard but, at long last, he retaliated by sending _his own personal magic user_ —the Wizard Highchurch—to face off against her.

He never returned.

Assuming the Wizard Highchurch to be dead, King Sterling fought back with force once more and the Witch retreated back into the Waste. Then the castle appeared, and with it, the Wizard Taako.

The Wizard Taako wasn't _much_ better than the Witch.

You see, the castle that the Wizard Taako called home was a _monstrous_ thing—a large black fortress atop spindly arachnid-like legs with smokestacks made of a black iron that poured smog out upon the sky and obscured the sun—and worst of all, it _moved_. At _first_ people were worried and didn't know _what_ this strange structure was. Some days it would be on the west side of Phandalin, right above the abandoned remains of a mine of orichalcum owned by the local dwarven clan, and other days it would be lurking as a speck far to the north. Some days the ground would rumble as the legs of the abomination dragged it across the skyline of Faerûn and people _rioted_ with panic in the streets. However, when they learned that it was _just the home of a Wizard_ , they calmed down and the moving castle became a fixture in everyone's lives.

They _shouldn't_ have let their guard down, however, because the Wizard Taako was _far_ more cruel than the Witch, his proximity to the capital of Faerûn notwithstanding. Word spread that the Wizard was a _rake_ and a _cad_ , luring young people of _all_ genders to an isolated location with honeyed words, only to consume their souls for sustenance or to devour their hearts for youth. A curfew was out of the question so everyone was encouraged to never travel alone and, much like the castle, the Wizard Taako and his amorous ways faded to the wayside.

* * *

When Mr. Hatter passed away, not long before Lucretia was to leave school, it was obvious what would happen. Raven informed the Hatter girls, with solemn sincerity, that their father had _indeed_ spared no expense for their education. "In _fact_ ," she remarked as she sat all three down for a hard conversation, "he spared _so little_ expense that we are in debt by a _great_ amount." When he passed, Mr. Hatter left his millinery with loans to pay, no money to pay with, and Raven had the hard work of rectifying that. "Hekuba," she directed, catching the eye of the middlest of three, " _you_ desire knowledge so I've set you up with an apprenticeship at the local blacksmith down the way. That way you can continue to learn as well as make a place for yourself in this world."

Hekuba gave Raven the smile she used when sincerity was cruel and she was _far_ from pleased. "Well," she said with a facetious laugh, "I _am_ strong; so that should serve me well."

"And _Julia_ ," Raven turned her attention to her youngest, "you aren't _quite_ of-age to do a full apprenticeship so I've found a fair compromise. Do you remember my friend Paloma Björk?"

"The chatty one with the scones?" Julia nodded her head and their mother continued.

"She's a witch, and she has _kindly_ accepted to take you on as her apprentice. That's a life that will lead to _many_ great things!" Raven folded her hands, looking pleased with herself, _despite_ Hekuba's fake happiness and Julia's quiet contemplation.

"And _me_?" Lucretia caught the eye of Raven, whose ears perked up immediately. "What of _my_ apprenticeship? If we're to help the shop to be debt free, what is _my_ lot?"

"You, as eldest, are to inherit the millinery when I have no way to continue running it. I've decided to take you on as an apprentice _myself_!" And there were their lots, cast and laid bare. Julia, the youngest, with her witchcraft and famous connections, would be set for greatness early on. Hekuba, second in line, with her strong build and determined nature, would most likely end up with a blacksmith's apprentice as a husband and financial security in the end. And Lucretia, poor eldest of three, would inherit her father's shop and run it until the end of time. A simple, _meager_ existence that would neither yield nor cost much. It just would _be_.

Raven had tailored their lives to their arcane roles and _not one of them_ cared for it—not that they would complain to Raven, who had worked herself _ragged_ trying to keep the household afloat in the tumultuous sea of debt collectors.

When the day came to pack their things for their apprenticeship, Hekuba threw all her items in a sack and carried it to the blacksmith's by herself. She took enough time to bid everyone a fond farewell before trudging to the _Hammer and Tongs_ to make her fortune. Julia, _slightly_ less sullen than before, packed her belongings in a trunk and took a wagon to Refuge, where Paloma lived. She, too, bid everyone a fond farewell. And Lucretia, poor, eldest Lucretia, simply followed Raven into the millinery and _learned_.

There wasn't much for her to learn, as Lucretia had grown up in this very store and knew its customers and staff, but she dutifully followed her mother and listened and watched. Eventually, despite her understanding of both interpersonal relations _and_ social psychology, Lucretia was given the tedious job of trimming hats and _that_ was _that_.

Lucretia took to the job as she did _all_ things: with determined silence. Trimming hats wasn't a _glamorous_ job by any means, but it kept her out of the public eye and it utilized her skills as a seamstress to their fullest. The hats she finished _may_ have been gaudy and tacky, but they shone with an internal light that drew customer after customer and brought a new wave of prosperity to the Hatter family.

 _And_ , as an added bonus, Lucretia _certainly_ never ran out of stories to hear or stories to tell. People talked a lot when they shopped, whether with their partner or their friends or the salesperson, and there was enough gossip—even in the small town of Phandalin—to go around.

"Did y'hear," Cassidy asked Ren as they both tried on hats one fine Sunday, "King Sterlin' an' th' prince had a _fallin' out_!"

" _Really_?"

" _Oh_ yeh," Cassidy nodded solemnly, " _big_ row that ended in him boltin' outta th' castle an' disappearin'."

"That's just _plumb_ awful!" Ren cocked her head to show off the gaudy feathered hat she was modeling. Cassidy shook her own head and Ren exchanged it for a more demure cap. "I hope he's alright!"

"Fer _shore_."

So Prince Sterling was missing. While he wasn't King Artemis Sterling's _son_ , as most would assume—in fact, the prince was easily older than the king by almost a _half-decade_ —the prince was loved by all who knew him. He had a reputation for rushing in without thinking and foolhardily making stupid decisions that seemed 'good' at the time, but still. Just disappearing seemed out of character for the lawful man.

Lucretia thought hard about this as she trimmed a caterpillar green bonnet with enchanted flowers and chiffon. "Do you think," she asked the hat—a habit she recently acquired to fill the strange void that her sisters' departure had left—"that the prince was captured by the Witch? He _is_ rather handsome and well-liked. I'm sure she wants to take him for her own." The hat, of course, did not answer. " _Well_ ," she sighed, "at _least_ you have personality. Someone will see the light deep inside of you and you will live in the lap of luxury." She finished the bonnet and moved on.

* * *

"King Artemis Sterling sent out his chamberlain to try and find the prince!" Scales excitedly whispered. Johann's ears flicked up in surprise. "And he's supposed to pass through Phandalin soon. Last _I_ heard," and here the blue dragonborn leaned in conspiratorially and winked at Johann, who blushed heavily, "he's not only _on his way here_ from Neverwinter, but also _really_ attractive!"

" _Scaaaaales_!" The embarrassed half-elf looked like he wanted the gods to strike him dead right then and there. " _Stooopppp_!"

" _Never_!" Scales stuck out his forked tongue and picked up the caterpillar bonnet that Lucretia had trimmed, placing it atop Johann's dark mop of hair. "I think this one suits you. Offsets your personality."

" _Fuck you_ , Scales." But Johann _did_ purchase the hat and Lucretia felt pride rush through her.

"Per _haps_ ," she asked an extravagant, wide-brimmed hat with a silk band and raven feathers, "the prince will _stop_ the Witch? Or perhaps he'll find the Wizard Highchurch. What do _you_ think?" The hat, of course, did not answer and with a resigned sigh, Lucretia finished the trim with a reserved bundle of black rosebuds. "Well at least you have poise. You'll marry into money, my friend."

* * *

"The Witch has been seen in Phandalin!" The worried call of Broghden, one of the workers at the Hatter millinery, echoed through the store one day.

" _When_? At what time?!" Raven, checking herself out in the elegant, black wide-brim, whipped her head towards the frenzied dwarf.

" _About_ a week ago! When the prince went missing?!" Broghden was panting, as if she had run from the _Davy Lamp_ all the way to the millinery. Seeing as Cassidy and Ren _both_ worked there and she was dating _both_ , it was very likely. "Remember the chamberlain?"

" _Avi_? The one who eloped with that Johann kid?" Raven's ears flicked up in surprise. Lucretia remembered hearing about that. She liked to longingly think that her hat had a hand in making that match.

Broghden nodded, "well the Wizard Taako was seen over by the Witch Paloma's place and word spread here by Cassidy that he was looking for the prince but by the time that he arrived here, the Witch had already scoured the area." It was all said in one breath which, Lucretia would admit, was _super_ impressive.

" _And_?" Raven pressed.

"She dropped by the _Davy Lamp_ , bought a _Redcheek Apple Juice_ , and then _left_! Paid _well_ too!" Broghden, piece said, leaned back on her heels and nodded as if to confirm her confusion.

"Well that's really _weird_!" Raven looked over at Broghden for some sort of review on the wide-brimmed hat. Broghden gave her a happy thumbs up and Raven placed a few gold pieces for payment. "I suppose we'll have to just keep an eye out for her then?"

"I'd rather not run into her at _all_ , if I'm being honest?"

" _I_ think," Lucretia confessed to a mushroom cap she was trimming with wild sprigs of zebra-grass and vermillion ribbon, "that _may_ be the Witch has _too much_ time on her hands. Most people in this town, _too_. Maybe one day _I'll_ have that kind of free time." She placed the mushroom cap on a mannequin head and eyed her work. "Youthful beauty," she declared. "You have the air of someone who enjoys the springtime."

* * *

Time passed, as it is wont to do, and soon the Hatters were doing very well for themselves. "I didn't even need to apprentice Hekuba and Julia," Raven said one day, over a warm dinner of shepherd's pie, "with the way the millinery is doing _now_ , all we needed was your precise touch." And she _meant_ it—not in the way that put Lucretia down and noted she was _only_ as good as her income—and that was appreciated. Lucretia felt the warmth of the compliment spread through her.

" _Thank you_ ," she accepted the compliment and ate as Raven _gushed_ about her new love—a dark-skinned beauty with snowy hair and a voice like melted chocolate named Istus—and how well the others were doing.

Lucretia, in the time that Raven had fallen _madly_ in love with Lady Istus, had assumed near-full control of the Hatter millinery. Though she _still_ preferred to dress plainly—generally staying in the range of simple gowns in shades of blue—and trim hats instead of interacting with customers. Talking to hats, it seemed, had sapped her ability to interact with other _sapient_ creatures. Crowds _horrified_ her and sent her into an anxiety-fueled panic-spiral, so she stayed in the upper levels of the millinery and trimmed and talked to the hats.

"You are the picture of youthful exuberance," she told a cream-colored bonnet she trimmed with pink rosebuds and baby's breath.

"You carry yourself with the air of a lady," she assured a burgundy, asymmetrical, wide-brimmed hat as she tied the satin ribbon round the middle into a wide bow.

"Someone will love you with _all_ of them," she assured a slightly plain sunhat she adorned with a sunflower. And so it goes.

One day, after a long stretch of trimming hats, Lucretia got it in her head to visit Hekuba. News had spread of her apparent success as a metalworker and Lucretia wanted to see her work in-person. So, with a world-weary sigh, Lucretia pulled a shawl around her shoulders and locked up for the night. _Granted_ , she didn't have someone to come with her in case of the Wizard Taako _but_ , considering how her fingers were calloused and her eyes were red and bleary from many hours of bending over hats in low light, she figured that if the Wizard Taako wanted _her_ , she should well be _flattered_.

The city of Phandalin was oddly busy for this time of day. _Most_ people would assume that a small place like this would be quiet once the sun started its descent, but instead the nightlife kicked its heels and whooped loudly as its time came. The narrow streets were filled with throngs of people moving from one place to another with a lackadaisical air and Lucretia _hated_ it.

With all of her, Lucretia attempted to make herself smaller in order to not touch a single person but, unfortunately, there was no escape from the mass of people. They jostled her unceremoniously and she had to bite down on her hand to keep from crying out in fear. Her breath caught in her chest and she had to count her steps to keep composure. As she rounded the corner towards the _Hammer and Tongs_ , she ran nose-first into a pair of guards.

"Well, well, _well_ ," one of the guards—a human with steely grey eyes and a crooked grin—said, "what luck I have to _night_!"

"Oh _yeah_ ," the other guard— _also_ a human, with a shock of blonde hair and a scraggly beard—smirked and elbowed his partner, "babes just _drop_ ping into your lap!"

"So how about I buy you a drink and you and I get... _cozy_?" The first guard leaned in and smiled and Lucretia's blood ran cold.

She couldn't _breathe_. She couldn't _move_. The two men were crushing her and she legitimately wanted to _very much_ just die on the spot and she couldn't make herself speak up in order to tell them no. _Say no_ , she screamed internally as a cold sweat broke out on her forehead and down her spine. _Say no and leave. Go see Hekuba later. You deserve a rest. Just. Say. No!_

But she _didn't_.

 _Instead_ , an elf dressed in what could only be graciously described as ' _jester chic_ ', spun her away from the two guards ad gave her a secretive wink. " _Now_ , now," he chided in a voice that was mostly nasal and wholly self-assured, "next time don't wander off, _dear_!"

Lucretia's brain stuttered to a halt. _What?_ Then it clicked and she quietly nodded.

"Why didn't you _say_ you were taken?!" The first guard accused.

"She shouldn't _have_ to," the elf countered, examining his perfectly manicured nails with an air of disinterest. "Silence is not a _yes_ and if it's _not_ a yes, it's a _no_. _Respect_ that, _hm_?" Before they could say a single word in rebuttal, the elf hooked his arm in hers and strutted away with purpose and regality. Lucretia just followed his lead in a daze. When they were out of sight of the guards, the elf let go of her arm and let out a large lungful of air. "Oofa- _doofa_...that was a fucking _train_ wreck from the get-go, _huh_?"

Lucretia did not speak, so shocked that this man would stick his neck out for her without knowing a thing about her that she couldn't even bring herself to utter a word.

"Did I spook you? _Man_ ," the elf rubbed the back of his head and shifted from assured to uncomfortable, " _my_ b. Just saw those jarheads getting all up in your grill and thought ' _hey! Fuck them!_ ' So... _sorry_ if I caused you any distress. _Have a safe one!_ " Without another word, he strode away, his flamboyant cape flapping behind him.

Lucretia ran as fast as she could. She didn't know where her legs were taking her but she needed to go somewhere. When she slammed her shoulder into the door for the Hammer and Tongs, her heart was trying to escape her chest.

Hekuba locked eyes with her and waved over one of the other metalworkers to take her place. When one of the customers cried out in frustration, she just whipped around, flipped them the bird, and shouted, "fuck _off_!" Then she escorted her sister to the back room and sat down next to her. " _Fuck_...you okay Tia?"

Lucretia nodded as she gulped in air like a drowned sailor. " _I'm_...I'll be fine. _Thank_ you."

" _Man_ , you looked like the Wizard Taako was hot on your tail. What had _you_ so riled up?" Hekuba leaned forward and Lucretia noticed something odd in her posture.

"You— _Julia_?" Her sister sat back and gave Lucretia a sheepish grin.

" _Well_ 'p," Hekuba—or rather, _Julia_ —said, "Guess the cat's outta the bag _now_."


	2. In Which Lucretia is Compelled to Seek Her Fortune

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof...okay m'dudes...know that I am super goddamn excited for this cause I just gave a go at listening to the audiobook (my entire left tit for anyone who can remind me where I put my physical copy blease) and now know 21 chapters is where we're headed on this nonstop train to pasticheville!
> 
> Sometimes, I will say this, it's certainly easier to work with con tent that already exists, so this may be updated more than Second Star because, despite them both being fanfiction, that one is more ORIGINAL? IDK...anyway...expect sporadic updates, as usual, because I am a garbage boy and cannot schedule for the life of me. Also I'm undertaking a lot of things at once so who knows if I'll get a chance to really...WORK much on the things that aren't ways of monetary gain. Plus my work has matinees and, as janitor there (housekeeping but, being honest, janitor), I have to haul ass to make sure shit up front looks...not like a dumpster fire. So...I won't have a lot of time to really...write the fun stuff (I mean, my original shit is fun but with music composition and my own campaign plus a podcast in the works and an original novel I'm in process of, I just don't have time for EVERYTHING).
> 
> But, and I will try and be as candid as I can be here, I'm going to try and finish this and Second Star. TRY.

"So mind telling me what this _is_?" Lucretia, in a _brief_ moment of actual lucidity, gestured to all of Julia with a slightly shaking hand. Now that Julia had fessed up, she could see it better. Hekuba was short and dwarven-broad while Julia was tall and half-elf sturdy. Hekuba's skin was more brown in the shade of reds with curly dark hair and a small braided beard but Julia's hair was a fluttering silver and her face was bare. While Julia certainly _looked_ like Hekuba, some of her own beauty shone through. She was a bit taller than Hekuba, certainly, and the glimmer of gold was already showing in her eyes.

"Okay, so you know how Raven set us up with our fortunes, _right_?" Julia twiddled her thumbs in a very obviously _Julia_ way. Lucretia nodded and her sister continued. "Well Hekuba and I didn't like it _one bit_! She was letting the old tales take her mind to places _we_ didn't want to be! Hekuba wanted to learn magic and make her way with _more_ than her build and _I_ didn't want to be _pampered_ for my place in our family! So first thing I did when I arrived at Paloma's was try and find a way to swap places." Lucretia's eyebrows met with her hairline and Julia blushed. It was odd to see her youngest sister's mannerisms on her middlest sister's body. A trip into the uncanny valley, as it were.

"Did—?" Lucretia started and then began again, "why didn't you _talk_ to Raven? I'm _sure_ she would have acquiesced!"

"She thinks she's doing well but her idea of children are... _flawed_ at best. Not that she's doing _poorly_ ," Julia amended quickly, noting the panic that crept onto Lucretia's posture, "but she doesn't understand that children are _people_! They have wants themselves! _They_ don't want to be corralled by fate any more than _adults_ do!" She leaned back in her chair and sighed, wiping away a thin sheen of sweat that coated her brow. "Paloma specializes in divination, sure, but any witch worth her salt keeps _all_ types of books on hand. I stayed up late studying and soon had my hands on an illusion that let us trade places. Paloma let _me_ visit Hekuba and then _she_ went back in my stead."

Lucretia studied her sister carefully. Julia seemed _very pleased_ with herself and, if Lucretia was being _wholly_ honest, she was too. It was _very_ clever, their plan. Paloma would probably figure things out quickly—Detect Magic was an easy one and a quick cast—but by the time the illusion wore off, people at _the Hammer and Tongs_ would accept the subtle change of _Hekuba_ into _Julia_. It wouldn't even be an afterthought.

"You're _happy_ here?" Lucretia inquired softly, her meekness born from... _many_ things. Her own discontent primarily and fear in second. "At _the Hammer and Tongs_ , I mean."

" _Yeah_! I _am_!" Julia grinned and flexed her biceps in a curl. "Mom _never_ let me do any sort of heavy work but I'm _built_ for it! Inherited Dad's build and I _like_ making things." They fondly thought of their deceased father and both sighed. Julia _did_ favor him—save for her ears and the coloring of her eyes, hair, and skin, she could _easily_ pass as a strong-armed human woman—but she had Raven's temperament. "Silver is best to work with but ironwrought _sells_ better. Not everyone in Phandalin needs a necklace made of thin silver but almost _every_ one needs an axe or a hoe. Steven says I may stand to inherit the forge myself!" She chuckled and some of Lucretia's worry abated, "Pissed Kalen _right_ off. Moaning on about how ' _he_ had been here first' and how 'he _deserved_ to inherit the shop' and so forth." She waved her hand in a roundabout manner and sighed. " _Prick_."

"I'm _glad_ to see you well," Lucretia bowed her head and moved to stand and head home but Julia reached out and snatched her wrist to stop her. " _Hm?_ "

"Are you _okay_?" The mood shifted from cordial to somber and Lucretia bit back guilt. "Hek and I _worry_ , Tia. You're always _so eager_ to please and you believe more in kismet than _anything_. It isn't good for you. You deserve _much more_ than what you _think_ you're worth."

"I'm...I'm _fine_ ," the eldest Hatter insisted, "the millinery is doing well and I'm getting _good_ work done. Raven has found a love in a beautiful Lady and Broghden is looking to tie the knot with _her_ two. We've been selling hats like mad and I'm only missing out on a _bit_ of socialization with other people." She giggled weakly at her excuses, "hats make for good conversationalists. They never interrupt nor talk back. Instead they _listen_ and that's all _I_ ask for."

" _Just_...don't let Raven bully you into your arcane fortune. Arcana is mysterious and fickle. Very little works out the way it's _ordained_." Julia locked eyes with Lucretia for some time, steely and intense. "Be _safe_ , big sis..."

"I'll do my best," Lucretia replied. _It's all I can do_. And she swept her skirts up and stood up to leave. " _Love you_ Jules."

"Don't be a stranger!" Steven, proprietor of _the Hammer and Tongs_ , cordially waved farewell. "Your sister does good work! Maybe one day this'll be hers!"

A hawkish man grimaced at this and one of the other blacksmith's apprentices—a dark-skinned human with cokebottle lenses and a mop of greasy curls—snickered in response. The hawkish one sneered at him and whispered something that shut him _right_ up.

"I'll try and stop by one afternoon. Maybe I'll bring a hat for the missus, Mister Waxman?" Steven blushed at this and shook his head.

"Not paired," he admitted with a hearty shrug, "but I _do_ like those good straw ones to keep the heat off my shoulders. Gardening is hard work."

Lucretia laughed, crimson darkening the bridge of her nose and accentuating her freckles. " _Sorry_ , Mister Waxman. I'll see what I can whip up." _It will be loved and lived in_ , she decided, _this hat I'll make for Steven._

When she arrived back at the Hatter millinery, she carefully locked up and wandered up to the attic, chest heaving. On the outside Lucretia looked calm and peaceful but on the inside she was _frenzied_. So she decided to busy herself with menial work while an idea was fresh in her mind.

"Do _you_ think," she asked a straw hat that she decided was for Steven—wide-brimmed and stiff—as she set it crookedly on a mannequin, "that I'm being used for my skill?" She sketched out a small drawing of the trimming for the hat with wide and practiced sweeps of her whole arm. "I mean," she continued on, erasing a wide strip of red ribbon and drawing a braid of waxed wheat and iron links in its place, "I do a _lot_ of the work here but Raven has a _life_. It's _only_ fair," she noted, "because she spent so much time raising us." The hat, as all its predecessors did, remained silent. She sighed and put the pencil down, charcoal smudges streaking her face as she scrubbed sleep from her eyes.

The day was coming to an end and, after all she had been through, she was _very_ tired. Sitting in candlelight and sketching with grey on soft papyrus did very little for her weary eyes. "I'll sleep on this one and come back to it," she decided, "before my eyes go early." Lucretia stretched the kinks out of her back and snuffed out the candle on her way out, her worries hounding her. Yet when she laid down, Morpheus took her by the hand and waltzed her through Dreamland.

* * *

 

Time moved on but nothing changed and—heaven _forbid_ she feel this way but—Lucretia remained discontent. It was a gnawing feeling that rooted deep in her gut and dug its claws in her heart; a wriggling insect of insecurity and _envy_. The hats continued to do well and, as promised, Lucretia had the wide-brimmed hat sent to Steven. It ended up being plain and serviceable with a waxed wheat and iron braid around the middle, and she told it that it would accompany him until they both were ragged. Steven later sent a set of fresh iron needles, sharpened to a fine point, with a thank you note.

Raven spoke often of Lady Istus and Lucretia couldn't help but be happy for her, despite the malaise that plagued her. "She's so _lovely_ ," Raven gushed one afternoon over dinner, "and she _loves_ the hat!"

_The black one with the raven feathers. Poise,_ Lucretia reminisced, _and marrying into money. Delightful. It fits Raven to a tee._

"I'm glad you've found love," Lucretia remarked honestly. "You seem _much_ happier."

"I'm glad _you're_ happy as well!" Raven laughed, stopping to stare at Lucretia in a peculiar manner, suddenly scrutinizing Lucretia's every movement. "You _are_ , aren't you? _Happy_ , I mean?"

Startled by this candor, Lucretia had her words taken away from her but her voice finally broke free of the gilded cage in her chest. "Of-of _course_! Why _wouldn't_ I be happy?!"

"You seem so tired as of late. I just worry."

Laughter bubbled forth and Lucretia shuddered with it all. "I'm _fine_ , mother. It's all well. So long as _you're_ happy, _I'm_ happy."

"Don't overwork yourself," Raven warned mockingly.

"Only if you don't stay out too late. The Wizard Taako still wanders the hills of Phandalin!" Raven rolled her eyes and their dinner dissolved into idle chatter. It wasn't brought up again. Lucretia preferred that. Silence was golden and gold was the only way to live. It greased the wheels of the capitalistic machine of Faerûn.

* * *

 

May Day came again and, with it, the crowds of people looking for hats to make them look better. With Steven's gift of fine needles, Lucretia easily met and exceeded the demand for her hats. They were sharp as knives and could even pierce through treated leather like it was felt. And while she lost sleep over late-night trimming, eyes bleary and body shaking with hunger, she was ecstatic as money rolled in and Raven could afford grander and _grander_ things.

But, as all things went, it didn't last.

During the bulk of the celebration, when most people were busy weaving maypoles or wooing their love or even eating and drinking and making merry, the bell at the front of the shop rang out. The most grand Eladrin that Lucretia had ever seen stepped in, a sturdy young human man next to them holding the door ajar for them to step through. The elf was dressed in shocks of brilliant colors in haute couture of the highest caliber, their full frame draped in gold chains and their nails done up with precious jewels. They _reeked_ of money and Lucretia knew that they would _never_ find anything worth their time _here_.

The Eladrin glanced around the shop and their lip curled. The human man, face almost the shade of his crinkly sideburns and beard, wrung his hands. "I've come to _inquire_ about a ha _t_ ," they said in a voice that was neither masculine nor feminine, only airy and disinterested.

"Well allow me to help you with that," Lucretia gathered a handful of hats that she thought would actually work for this woman. She pulled out a wide-brimmed hat, much like the one that Raven wore, and the Eladrin tried it on. They looked into the full-length mirror and sniffed derisively.

"Poise," they remarked. "A _sad_ little word."

The human man wrung his hands even harder but Lucretia relieved the Eladrin of the hat and replaced it in the box. "Well then how about _this_?" She pulled out a mushroom cap accented with zebra grass and offered it up.

The Eladrin adjusted the cap to a tilt and frowned. "Youth. _Springtime_ too," they spat the words like slugs being removed from produce. The human looked even more put-off than before. "Anything _else_ , or have I wasted my _ti_ me?"

" _One more!_ " Lucretia hurried along and came back with a new one she was working on. It was the only other hat she thought would even come _close_ to the beauty that the Eladrin exuded. It was a small black and white cap with a thin veil, gently trimmed with ostrich feathers dyed to reflect iridescence beyond understanding. _Still_ too plain but...it was the best she could do.

The Eladrin placed the hat on their head and smiled faintly. It wasn't a _kind_ smile, more self-satisfied and _hungry_. " _This_ ," they drawled, "does _ab_ so _lute_ ly _nothing_ for _anyone_. _Why_ are you so _stu_ pid?" Lucretia started and balled her hands into fists to keep them from shaking. The Eladrin continued on jovially, _maliciously_ , "And _here_ I thought that you were clever. A _threat_. _Ah_ well," they turned to their horrified human companion and their stance shifted in a way that Lucretia couldn't read, " _never_ let it be said I live and _let be_. Next time think about who you cross, _hm_?" A feeling washed over Lucretia—static and shivering like a winter breeze curling underneath a door through cracks in the floor, chattering teeth and the numbness of nerves shocked too many times—but she felt words fight their way out her mouth. Anger bubbled in her gut as the insect in her chest wriggled and _writhed_.

" _What?_ " Lucretia's voice cracked, catching in her throat and squeaking with fear. It sounded strange, like all the air was squeezed out of her, but she didn't care. This Eladrin was scaring her and she wanted them to leave as soon as they could. Sooner, even, if possible.

"Oh, and _darling_?" The Eladrin shot over their shoulder with a predatory sneer as the human looked on, horrified. "You can't tell a _soul_ you're under a spell. Hope you enjoy your new life! Keep in mind not to fuck with the Witch of the Waste! _Ta_!" They exited the shop with their human in tow, long cape catching the wind as they went.

It was some time before Lucretia could find it in her to move, let alone gather her wits. When her body unlocked and she found her legs responding to her frantic commands again, she hobbled weakly to a chair and sat down. " _What_ the _fuck_ ," she muttered in a creaky and broken voice. " _What the fuck?!_ " Louder now, but no stronger. Her words clawed their way out of her mouth and caught on the crags and boulders of her teeth, squeaking like rusted hinges that ask piteously for lubrication. "The _Witch_? A _curse_?!" She gave a deep chest cough and tried to speak without the quavering weakness that dogged her since the Witch— _the fucking Witch of the Waste?!_ —left. When she took a breath to begin speaking aloud again, her chest seized and rattled weakly. "A curse?"

Lucretia heaved herself out of the chair and took stock of the way her body screamed in protest. Her joints creaked and locked up and she swore under her breath, using words that she had learned from Julia, who learned them from rejected suitors. Four letter words with _venom_ and _spite_ behind them. Raven would have blushed dark enough to disappear had she heard them uttered by meek, _precious_ Lucretia. Mouth spitting dangerous barbs of anger and frustration, she made her way to the bathroom in the millinery to splash some water on her face to clear her thoughts. She froze, however, when she took stock of how her hand curled around the doorknob. A gnarled claw, crisscrossed with visible veins and marked with valleys and mountains of wrinkled, ashy flesh, clenched around the brass knob. This was _not_ her hand but... _she_ was holding the doorknob.

The pain in her chest multiplied. Her breathing quickened. She tore the door open and dashed—as well as she could despite her protesting _everything_ —to the sink to examine her reflection.

What she saw was _not_ her. Not the Lucretia she knew from before; weary but hardy, passionate and bleary. No, this ' _her_ ' was everything she believed herself to be inside. An older woman, not graced with but hammered down by age, thin and brittle. Her dark skin was ashen and marked with gorges and the weight of the world. Her eyes, bleary before, still shone with the sky-tinted violet but drooped with years she had never _lived_. Her build—never thick like Julia or stout like Hekuba—had become doubled and wiry, her bones visible through her _everything_. Her hair remained the same light color as before—more silver than the platinum blonde that her mother gifted her—wound tight in natural curls against her skull.

Lucretia took all of her appearance in and, in a moment of clarity so sharp she though she would bleed from it, found a wash of calm bury her anxiety. "Well old gal," she croaked, finally able to reconcile her new voice with her new looks, "I'd say this _suits_ you. Your clothes finally look your type and you at least are the age you _act_." She let out a hearty cackle—the laugh of an older woman who has nothing more to lose and cares very little what others think—and adjusted her dress. "At least you're hale. I _shudder_ to think what your life would be like if you had a weaker constitution."

* * *

 

If Lucretia had to describe the moments that followed, she would use the words ' _disassociated_ ', ' _disconnected_ ', and ' _unreal_ '. With a certain stubbornness that she wouldn't have had the chutzpah to exercise were she younger, she packed up a bindle of bread and cheese, threw her nicest shawl around her shoulders, locked up the shop, and headed for the hills outside of Phandalin. "The Wizard Taako," she assured herself, "will help me. And should he _not_ —the self-centered woman-eater—I'll give him the what for! Not like he'd take me _now_. He only eats the hearts of _young_ people. _Pretty_ people. _Ha_!" She cackled again. "Becoming old is the _best_ thing that's ever happened to you!"

Granted, the thought of Julia and Hekuba and Raven haunted Lucretia, but showing them her plight would be far more cruel than leaving a note like she did. _Back soon, —Lucretia_. That's all she said and that would suffice until the Wizard Taako undid this shit and she could face them again without shame replacing her blood and flooding her system with abject horror.

She tramped her way through Phandalin proper, suddenly acutely aware of her pain and the amount of space she took up. By the time she managed to leave the actual city, her _everything_ ached. "I need," she mused, "to find a walking stick. Something _nice_ and _sturdy_. That'll at least make walking a smidge less tedious." So, as she passed by farm and hill and dale, she kept a keen eye out for a stick that would support her doubled form.

After some time, Lucretia saw a large, wide stick poking out of a bush. Excited, she hobbled forward faster, and soon reached the bush the stick was in. With a massive amount of effort, she heaved downward and found out that what she assumed was a stick was actually the post of a scarecrow, upturned in the shrubbery.

Panting, she leaned the scarecrow against the bush and wiped the sweat off of her wrinkled forehead. " _Well_ ," she gasped, "now you aren't upside down any more so...that's _one_ good thing." She huffed and took a long look at the scarecrow. It was... _squat_. That was a weird thing to notice but, for a scarecrow, it was short and wide. It's head was a slanted onion that had a drawn-on face that looked oddly mischievous for a scribble. It had on the tackiest flower-print shirt that Lucretia had ever had the displeasure of looking at and she honestly pitied the thing. "Old friend," she grumped, "I think you may be better off than I am, even _with_ the awful attire."

If the scarecrow could speak, it would've indignantly protested her snide remark. Instead, much like her own hats, the inanimate object remained silent.

" _Here_ ," she said as she sat the poor thing upright and firm in the ground, "that way if your owner comes looking for you, they can see you. Now best of luck!" And she hobbled away, a little more tired but no worse for wear after that encounter.

Eventually Lucretia had to stop and eat her bread and cheese. Her whole body was thrumming in pain but, as she has figured out earlier, she _was_ a very hale old woman. "If I...were any less... _determined_...," she wheezed between bites of food as she sat on a hill looking out on Phandalin, "I _might_ have just...given _up_..."

That was the odd thing about being an old woman; she didn't really care about what people thought any more. No longer did it matter if Broghden thought she was far too meek to ever net someone to love. No longer did it bother her if she was too mousy to be beautiful. She was an older woman. Who gave a shit?! Not _her_!

(This was, to be wholly honest, only a _partial_ truth. She did very much give a shit. Quite a shit indeed. But she would vehemently deny it with every last breath her old body would produce.)

A loud rustling caught her attention and she swallowed her quick meal as fast as she could. Her knees protested her getting up that quickly but she harrumphed and walked on despite that. "Oh _hush_ , you aren't getting any younger!" The source of the rustling was a dog—a large black and white mastiff—stuck in yet another bush. "Two in one day is a setup for a joke," she quipped with a cackle, "or arcane fortune. Come _here_." The dog, whose hind end was the _only_ end she could see, wriggled harder at that, tail tucked tight between its legs. " _Stop_ that," she chided, grabbing the dog by the knees and pulling it out of the bush. "Now was _that_ so hard?"

The dog, eyes rolling in terror, foamed at the mouth as it tried to wriggle free of her grip. Lucretia swallowed a wave of fear at the sight of its teeth but soldiered on. A large loop of barbed wire was wrapped around its neck, the other end tethered to a large stick—which is what caught on the bushes. Blood trickled out of the places the wire cut into the dog's neck but she got in there with her knobbly hands and unwound it a bit. It was difficult with the dog thrashing like it was but she managed to undo the loop enough for the pooch to get free, her hands smarting where she was cut by the wire as well. It darted away, tail between its legs, and Lucretia wearily shook her fist and swore at it— _more_ words young ladies shouldn't know.

"Ungrateful _cur_!" She hollered after the retreating form of the mastiff. "At least you left me _this_. I _definitely_ needed a walking stick." With more deftness than Lucretia thought she possessed, she twisted off the last of the barbed wire and took in her prize.

It had to have been someone's walking stick at one point or another. The staff she held in her hands was a white oak with sprawling branches shaped to look like the World Tree encapsulating a blue-green piece of glass meant to be Faerûn. The bottom was capped with a tight piece of iron and it was the perfect height for Lucretia's new form. She cackled and stood up.

"Well at least _one_ good thing has come of this. I mean, _damn_ the Witch of the Waste and _all_ she touches because _really_! _Who_ goes out of their way to curse a simple hatter with old age?! Not _kind_ people, I'll say _that_!" She complained to her new walking stick. "Though I _suppose_ that this is what comes of being the eldest of three. Think I should be blessed with one more Encounter before I get where I'm going, _hm_? At least one that results in _some_ sort of magic boon. Two Encounters so far and nothing to show for it except a scraped-up arm and a nice walking stick!" She looked down guiltily at her stick and muttered an apology, "not that you aren't _useful_. I just thought I'd have more of a 'fairy in disguise' or an 'old beggar woman who's an ancient witch' kind of Encounter." She sighed wearily, "the _eldest_ of _three_."

The sun was setting by the time that Lucretia found herself near the mines of Phandalin, disgruntled and frustrated with her lack of progress. " _Hale and hearty_ ," she laughed, the lemon rind and curdled milk of discontent and defeatism brewing in her stomach, biting away at her insides. " _Hardly_! A whole day's worth of walking and I've _barely_ made it past the edge of town! _Pfeh_..." Still, she ambled on, driven more now by the budding sprouts of rage more than anything else. And, admittedly, while her persistence was more out of spite and desperation than anything else, she told herself that it was _hope_ instead.

"I _think_...I _may_ have... _cursed_ myself...with my... _birth_...," she wheezed to her staff, barely trudging through the gravel that outset the mines. "But damn if I...will let some _up_...upstart witch take... _anything_...more!" _Gods_ , her chest hurt but she needed to find a place to rest that wasn't outright dangerous, so she _had_ to move on. Plus she wasn't certain that she would get up again if she sat down for a rest. She _was_ , after all, an old woman. Her staff didn't respond—as the hats and the scarecrow didn't—but Lucretia continued rambling. "You'd _think_...a moving _ca_...castle would be...easier to... _find_..."

And as if summoned, the large, black monstrosity trundled across the top of the mines and towards Lucretia. She stopped to say a quiet prayer to whatever god had been listening to her silent plea and then hobbled after it, shaking her staff every so often and shouting at it.

" _Stop_!" She wheezed, her legs wobbling uncertainly beneath her. " _Stop right now_ damn you! I seek the Wizard Taako!" She shook her staff at the castle again. "You ungrateful, ugly, _roving_ thing! Stop!"

And the castle ground to a halt with a world-weary sigh of smoke and creaking machinery and settled, slowly but deliberately, on a hill just in front of Lucretia; it was waiting.

"Oh thank _fuck_!" At last, a place to rest.

**Author's Note:**

> Like this? Want to see more bullshit like this from me at a semi-consistent-non-consistent pace? Then check out [my Tumblr](http://thesleepiestsheepy.tumblr.com/) for all sorts of bullshit and [my Twitter](http://twitter.com/ArrowAceP) for less-rambly but still oddly off-kilter bullshit! And who knows...maybe you might even deign to buy me a coffee as well! :D


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